


Not That Tired

by TinCanTelephone



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cassian is very tired, Draven is not a dick, Established Relationship, F/M, Fainting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sleepiness, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-28 21:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21398926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinCanTelephone/pseuds/TinCanTelephone
Summary: In which Cassian returns from a long mission more exhausted than usual. But that's normal, right? No need to tell Jyn or Draven…
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 14
Kudos: 202





	Not That Tired

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AstridMyrna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstridMyrna/gifts).

> Written when I was bored & procrastinating– not originally to post but I actually quite like it! 
> 
> Thanks so much to @thegiddyowl for the beta!

Cassian didn’t think he’d ever been so happy to see Home I. He could admit it wasn’t his favorite thing to be in space all the time rather than on a planet, but after eight standard weeks stuck on Ithor, anything was better. Besides having little to do aside from waiting for replacement parts for his ship to arrive, there wasn’t much in terms of human food, and he’d had to get by on dry, tasteless, nutrient bars formulated by the locals. And while he normally wasn’t too picky about food, a whole month of the same damn thing was a bit much even for him. 

But it was too late to eat now. It was almost 2100 on the cycle Home I kept, and even if it wasn’t, he was too tired to think about eating. Maybe it was the relief of finally getting off that goddamn planet, but he’d felt the energy draining out of him during the flight and by now, all he really wanted was a bed. Preferably with Jyn, although he doubted he’d be able to muster much more than a vague half-asleep greeting before passing out. 

Their room turned out to be empty, but his disappointment was muted through the exhausted haze as he shed his outer layers and collapsed into bed. Almost immediately, he felt himself falling asleep. Force, he’d been more exhausted than he thought. 

“–ssian? Cassian.” 

He woke up slowly, to Jyn nudging his shoulder from behind. Groggily, he rolled over and squinted in the light of the lamp.

“There you are.” She smirked. “Just wanted to make sure you were still alive.” 

“Still alive,” he muttered, trying to rub some of the sleep out of his eyes. It felt far too early to be waking up. His hands were cold on his face, and he tucked them under the blankets again.

“Sorry,” she said, “but you were asleep when I got back last night and I haven’t seen you in months.” She leaned over the bed to kiss him. “I missed you.” 

He offered a hazy smile up at her. “I missed you, too.” 

“They must’ve been working you hard,” she said, tugging the laces on her boots. “You were knocked _ out _ last night. I dropped my hairbrush in the ‘fresher and you didn’t even stir.” 

“Just tired, I guess.” His eyes were still heavy, and he was tempted to drift off again right then. 

“I’ll say.” She finished with her boots and stood up. “I’ve got training at 1000, but I’ll see you this evening at the general intel meeting.” 

“See you.” Cassian wondered for a second why she was leaving now if she didn’t have training until 1000, then finally focused on the nightstand chrono. 

_ 0942? _ He jerked upright, then gripped the wall through a head rush. _ That’s what you get for sleeping for twelve straight hours_. 

He shook his head and pushed back the covers, stumbling to the ‘fresher to get ready. He hoped a shower would wake him up, but on Home I all the units were sonics, which just weren’t the same as real water. He still felt sluggish getting dressed, fumbling with this belt and shoelaces. By the end, he found himself sitting on the bed staring longingly at the pillow again. It would be so easy to just curl up again and–

He shook his head and pushed himself up. He’d experienced post-mission crashes before, maybe this one was just particularly bad. 

The commissary had closed for breakfast by the time he made it there, so he picked over some of the less bruised mystery fruit and settled down at one of the empty booths to fill out his report. Because of the length of the mission, it was going to be a long one, but should only be the work of a few hours if he worked efficiently. 

But after a few hundred words, the lines started to blur together and his eyes began to feel heavy. It became an effort to stay focused on the words, and unconsciously his head started to nod. The persistent exhaustion was becoming frustrating, but he was powerless against it. It was like a heavy weight on his shoulders, a fog that was never far from creeping back into his brain. He folded his arms on the table and laid down his head.

_ Just for a bit_, he thought. _ Then I’ll be able to keep going_. 

He woke up with a fierce ache in his neck and back to a chime on his datapad reminding him of a meeting with Draven at 1100. Which was in–

_ 2 minutes? _ At first he could only stare at the chrono in shock, wondering how he could’ve slept that long. Then he hastily gathered his things and power-walked to Draven’s office. It wasn’t that far away, thank the Force, but his heart was pounding by the time he reached the door. 

He was still panting a bit when he knocked and was allowed entry. 

“Busy morning?” Draven said dryly. 

“Just the usual,” he said, feeling a little guilty for implying he’d spent the day so far being productive instead of sleeping. 

“Hm.” Luckily, Draven didn’t seem interested in the details of his day, and spent most of the meeting talking preparation for the general intel meeting that evening. 

“So don’t bother killing yourself trying to turn in your report today,” he said at the end, “because I won’t be reading it until tomorrow at the earliest anyway.” 

“Thank you, Sir.” Any other day, Cassian would’ve turned in the report within the hour anyway, but after that morning he was forced to admit that this time, he was grateful for the extension. 

He paused outside Draven’s office, wondering where to go if not to an office to write. If he were truly honest with himself, he still felt like he was dragging, and a significant part of him was begging to go back to his quarters and lie down. But it was barely after midday– it felt ridiculous to sleep now. 

Maybe he needed something to keep his mind a little more active. So he turned and headed towards the droid bay, and the corner he’d carved out as his workshop (really just a bench with random KX parts scattered across the surfaces and shelves). He’d recently acquired an old chassis of the same generation as Kay’s old body, so there was finally something solid to work with. It was basically a hollow shell, and all the old wiring and hardware rusted inside had to be stripped out and replaced. He was currently in the middle of rewiring the left shoulder joint, a delicate process that involved the careful placement and threading of wires so they’d connect correctly to the motherboard and head. 

Normally, he might’ve enjoyed this type of work, watching the connections come together and making sure all the placements were perfect, but today it was like torture. His tools felt heavier than normal, and it was hard to focus on the tiny wires. He worked for barely fifteen minutes before his hands shook so badly he had to put down his tools. Wiping his fingers on a rag, he leaned forward and pressed his palms to his head, trying to will away the headache emerging behind his eyes. 

Force, was he sick? It didn’t feel like it– he didn’t feel feverish, his throat didn’t feel scratchy and his sinuses were clear. He couldn’t really think of a way to unify everything he was feeling, he was just… tired. 

He just had to push through it, like he had many times before. He forced himself to picked up his pliers and reached into the chassis again, but his hands were clumsy and he jammed his finger against the back of the metal. There was a flash of pain and he cried out in surprise, drawing it back to see his fingernail bleeding, the distal half broken off and dangling from the end. 

He stared at it for a second, stunned, watching blood ooze from under what remained of the nail bed, then the pain seemed to combine with his headache and he abruptly decided to give up. He tossed down his tools and stormed out of the droid bay, aware he was being petulant but too annoyed to care. 

The anger faded quickly anyway, as he was too exhausted to sustain it. As soon as he reached his quarters, he barely had the presence of mind to wrap a bit of plaster around his finger before kicking off his shoes and curling up in bed. Just before falling asleep, he remembered to set an alarm on his datapad for the general intel meeting, although he probably wouldn’t need it– he couldn’t imagine sleeping for over three hours. 

He woke suddenly, at first not sure why. Then he realized his datapad was blinking, like it did when an alarm had been going off for too long and turned off. 

_ An alarm! _ He looked at the time and shot out of bed, then had to grip the side table through a wave of vertigo, black spots momentarily clouding his vision. 

Breathing hard to quell the panic, he pulled on his boots and jacket and stumbled to the door. It wouldn’t take long to get there if he hurried, but he usually made a point to be early to these things and at this rate he’d barely be on time. 

He paused outside his room, squinting in the bright light and trying to get his bearings. Despite oversleeping, he felt no better than he did in the droid bay– possibly even worse. The headache hadn’t receded at all, and he was so tired it was like he hadn’t even slept. Walking with his head down kept the worst of the brightness out of his eyes, but watching the corridor move under his feet made him dizzy. The walls seemed to tilt around him, making him feel vaguely nauseous and glad he’d barely eaten anything all day. 

He slipped into the room just on time, taking his place to Draven’s right. 

“Good of you to join us,” Draven muttered as Mon Mothma began the proceedings. 

Cassian didn’t respond, but couldn’t have even if he wanted to. He was out of breath, which was odd for having walked barely ten minutes, and his heart was pounding as if he’d been running from stormtroopers. Mon Mothma seemed to be speaking from very far away, all he could hear was blood rushing through his ears, which didn’t help the headache or the dizziness. He wished there was a table or a wall nearby he could grasp to steady himself– his head felt so light he thought it might float away, and the black spots were returning. 

He planted his feet and tried to stand as still as possible, but the ground still swayed underneath him. As he tried desperately to re-focus his eyes, he caught sight of Jyn across the room, standing with the pathfinders. She was staring at him hard, a faint frown on her face. 

Then the room tilted severely to the left and the black spots came back, and the last thing he saw before they took over was Draven reaching out for him. 

He was aware of a dull pain in his left hip, then he was lying down, and someone was holding his wrist, gently probing in between the tendons for a pulse. The floor was cold and hard beneath him, and there were noises coming from far above, but he just couldn’t fight the crushing exhaustion anymore and allowed himself to fall asleep again. 

* * *

He came to slowly, lying on something much softer, the room quiet around him. He was still bone-tired, but the headache and nausea were gone, which was an improvement. After a second (or maybe a minute), he realized he was in the medbay, an IV drip attached to his hand. 

_ The medbay… _ He thought hard, trying to remember why he would be in the medbay…

“Wakey, wakey.” There was a sing-song voice to his left and he turned his head to see Jyn, lounging in a chair by his side, a soft, teasing smile on her face. 

“What–” He licked his lips, mouth dry and sticky. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you were eating on Ithor,” she said, handing him a cup of ice chips, “But there was like, no iron in your blood at all.”

He blinked, trying to understand what she was saying. “No _ what _ in my blood?”

“You’re severely anemic, Cassian,” she said, lips still turned up but a faint crease in between her eyes. “That’s why you were so tired.”

_ Anemic_. Not a totally foreign concept, but mostly familiar to him in the context of blood loss. The last time he remembered hearing it was one of his faint memories from just after Scarif, when everything was muted and confusing. 

“How long…” he began, not sure how to finish. How long had he been here? How long did he have to stay? How long until he felt better? But it seemed like a lot to come up with all those words. 

Of course, Jyn seemed to know what he meant. She glanced at the chrono. “You’ve been here around sixteen hours now, asleep the whole time. They’ll probably want to keep you around for a little while longer, at least until you finish this iron infusion–” she nodded towards the drip. 

_ Sixteen hours_. When was the last time he’d slept even close to that long? Probably after Scarif, again. 

“Then you’re supposed to take it easy for a week or so, and after that iron and vitamin C supplements twice a day for a month, then once a day for three more months,” Jyn continued. 

“Supplements for four months?” he said, trying to rise up onto his elbows (with limited success). 

She gave him a look. “Don’t make me watch you take them, Cassian.”

He settled back down, dropping his eyes.

“We can’t have you fainting in any more meetings.”

“Didn’t faint,” he said automatically, then paused. His last memories were coming back to him– at the general intel meeting, and someone reaching out… “Did Draven–?”

A chuckle slipped out before she caught herself. “Yes, Draven caught you before you could hit that thick head of yours.” 

“Head not thick,” he muttered, letting his eyes fall closed as blood rose in his face. Force, he’d never live this down.

Jyn clucked her tongue. “Kalonia couldn’t believe you were walking around for the whole day yesterday– your levels were so low you must’ve been dead on your feet. And somehow you didn’t tell me or Draven or stop by the medbay.” 

“Thought it was just a post-mission crash,” he said, although it sounded ridiculous in his own mouth.

She snorted. “And he says he’s not thick-headed.” 

“Maybe a little bit.” He sighed, and wondered if it would be okay to go back to sleep. 

Jyn reached out, and he felt her finger brush his temple as she pushed his hair back from his forehead. “I guess I should let you to get some rest.”

“Wait.” He made a clumsy grab for her wrist, but she let him catch her. “Stay?” He was too tired to be embarrassed for asking. 

“I can’t,” she said, lips turned down. “But I’ll come back soon.” She rubbed his cold hand between her own. “Promise.”

“Promise,” he said, disappointment muted as he fell asleep, savoring the warmth of her hands on his. 

He woke again in the same bed, but the IV was gone and he was much warmer than before. He glanced down at the weight against his left side, and he saw Jyn sliding under the covers with him. 

“Our bed isn’t the same without you,” she said.

He didn’t respond, beyond throwing his free arm around her. She pressed herself against him, snaking her arms around his chest squeezing so hard he coughed. 

“Sorry,” she murmured. 

“‘S okay,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

She was quiet for a minute, but not a relaxed kind of quiet. Then, to his surprise, she shuffled up and kissed his jaw. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He paused, almost stunned by the tenderness and intimacy of the gesture. The words, _ Of course I’m okay _ formed on his lips, but then he stopped himself. It must’ve been terrifying for her, to watch from across the room as he collapsed in the middle of a meeting.

So he hugged her back as tightly as he could manage. “I’m sorry for not going to the medbay. And for scaring you.”

“Don’t do it again,” she whispered. 

“I won’t,” he said. “I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading/comments/kudos!! 
> 
> As always, I'm on tumblr as [cats-and-metersticks](https://cats-and-metersticks.tumblr.com/), currently posting small kiss prompts– so check out [my ficlet tag](https://cats-and-metersticks.tumblr.com/tagged/my-ficlets)!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Not That Tired [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25054384) by [blackglass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackglass/pseuds/blackglass)


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